Myth
by Elessar King
Summary: Sequeal to Hero and Legend. Lancelot's life is at sake and a dream takes Arthur on a dangerous journey to save him. nonslash. Updated: Chapter 6
1. Mythical Dream

So here it is. I know that summary is really lame, but hopefully the story won't be. This first chapter was inspired by my Master, AthenaLeigh, and her Russian henchmen. But that's something totally different, just know that part of it was inspired by her haha. Well, since it's the holiday season, I will be having time for awhile to write, but once school starts again, I am not promising regular updates as I'm really jumping out of my comfort zone and taking honours GASP. That's some way off, I just thought I'd mention. Anyway, talked long enough, enjoy and Happy Christmas! (since it is Christmas Eve after all..or almost)

Myth

Chapter 1 – Mythical Dream

Arthur awoke suddenly, jolting up in bed, his breath coming in short gasps. Sweat covered his face and he looked around the room, eyes wide. The visions were still too clear in his mind. Arthur ran a shaking hand through his sleep-tousled hair, he could still hear his heart pounding in his ears.

It had been the fifth night in a row that the dream had haunted his sleep. His breathing slowing, Arthur leaned back against the wall next to his bed, letting his head rest on the cool stone. It had seemed all so real. He reached one hand over and touched his side, feeling the still sensitive scar under the fabric of his tunic. The dream had made it felt as if it had reopened; the scar burned. Arthur closed his eyes, it was all in his mind, he had to let it go. He unintentionally drifted back to sleep, propped up against the wall, and again his mind entered the land of dreams.

* * *

"_Arthur Castus…"_

_A voice out of the darkness called to him. But there was nothing there in the void. _

"_Arthur Castus…"_

_He stood there, Excalibur in his hand. "Who are you!" Arthur shouted into the emptiness. There was no answer, not at first._

_Fire suddenly sprang about him in a ring, Arthur spun around, Excalibur held out in front of him, ready to fight. There was no one to fight, only the fire. He could feel the heat of the flames all around him, he had no escape. _

"_Arthur Castus…"_

_A wind blew past him, pulsating…like the beating of wings. Arthur stepped back, his eyes wide, sword held in front of him defensively. A red shape formed above him, coming closer. It flew past, the wind from its wings disturbing the flames. Suddenly, it dropped down inside the circle, towering over Arthur. A dragon._

_With an inhuman cry, the dragon lunged forward, but flew off again, making a sound that Arthur assumed as laughter. Another image appeared; a figure standing outside of the fiery ring. "Arthur…" Lancelot reached for him, stumbling forward and then collapsing, an arrow stuck in his shoulder. _

"_No!" Arthur screamed, but he couldn't get past the flames. The knight looked up one last time, his face pale. And then his eyes closed. Arthur shouted at him again. But instead of Lancelot, the dragon returned. An arrow came out of nowhere, striking Arthur's arm. He suddenly felt as if all of his old wounds had reopened. Falling to his knees, he looked down at his side, where the scar was. Blood now spread through his tunic. Gasping for breath, Arthur dropped his sword. The dragon grinned as it reached for him._

"_Arthur Castus…"_

* * *

Lancelot's boots ground on the small rocks and dust that were scattered about the stone steps leading up to the top of the wall. It was usually quiet up here, except for the sound of footsteps. The young knight had seen his captain sitting up here for sometime, in his favourite place of thought and reflection. Of course, it usually also meant something was troubling him.

Sitting down beside Arthur, their feet dangling over the edge as usual, Lancelot commented, "Anything changed since you were last up here?"

Arthur managed to smile slightly. He looked tired to Lancelot's dark brown eyes, they noticed every detail. "That blade of grass over there is gone," Arthur replied, motioning to the field that was far below them.

Lancelot snorted, "Just that one?"

"Aye."

Looking down at his hands after a moment, Lancelot sighed. "You look tired," he said softly.

"I haven't been sleeping well…" his friend trailed off, looking up at the sky.

"If this is about Marcus…" Lancelot started, turning his brown eyes upon him, "Arthur, we've talked about this, you don't have to-…"

"It's not," Arthur interrupted. He sighed, closing his eyes, "I just haven't been sleeping well."

Lancelot shook his head, "No, I know you. There's something else too. Please Arthur, I only want to help."

The Roman sat for a long time, perhaps hoping that Lancelot would forget about it, the knight thought. Finally, he rubbed his face with both hands, closing his tired grey eyes, and said, "A dream, that's all."

"Nightmares?"

"Yes…" Arthur sighed, his voice becoming quieter, "The same one." Lancelot's brown eyes softened in sympathy and he wrapped a supportive arm around Arthur's shoulders, as his friend had often done for him. Arthur knew it was Lancelot's way of telling him to continue, but he didn't want to. He didn't want to, but he knew he should. This had been left boiling inside him for too long. "There is nothing…a void," he started, "And something calls my name. Then fire creates a ring around me, I can't escape…there's..a dragon. And you, I saw you, Lancelot. You-…" He couldn't finish the statement, Arthur's eyes stared off into the distance.

Lancelot whispered to him gently, rubbing his shoulder with his thumb, "Then what happened?"

"An arrow came out of nowhere and struck my arm. It felt like all of my old scars opened up and then the dragon came…" Arthur shook his head, that was enough for the knight beside him.

"Well, it's just a dream, Arthur," Lancelot whispered, "Just a dream." There wasn't one knight there who hadn't at least had one nightmare, and there were many that the dreams frequented. Lancelot was one of them, along with Galahad, who was known to wake up screaming sometimes. But Arthur was different, his dreams rarely made their presence known.

"I know it's just a dream," he replied, "I've been telling myself that for five days."

"Then maybe you need to take your mind off of it."

"That's easier said than done, you know that."

"Then I'll help you take your mind off of it, let's go for a ride," Lancelot offered, a small smirk forming on his face, "I'll race you."

Arthur looked over at him, poking a finger into Lancelot's side, "Will you now?"

"Gah!" the knight laughed, pushing Arthur's hand away, "Arthur!"

Echoing the laugh, Arthur knew Lancelot's very closely guarded secret and proceeded to poke his ticklish side again, getting swatted by his friend. Lancelot, however, knew better than to stay around and jumped up, running down the length of the wall, still laughing. Arthur trailed close behind. They bounded down the stairs, Arthur's long legs making up for Lancelot's head start, and soon he was close enough. Wrapping his arms around the knight's chest, Arthur pulled him down, wrestling around until the younger man was pinned.

"That's not fair!" Lancelot protested, "You're bigger!"

Arthur laughed, releasing him from his grasp and ruffling his curly hair, "Of course it's fair."

"It's not fair and you know it…but I'll still beat you to the stables!" Lancelot bolted up, racing through the fort, laughing the entire time. Arthur chased him, the dark dream temporarily forgotten.


	2. Mythical Danger

Hi everyone, Happy Christmas! Ok, I know I mentioned being able to post regularly..for the most part..but I won't be updating again until after Wednesday since we're going to see relatives for the holiday. Exciting eh? Anyway, I'll hopefully get some writing done and bring it back to you all. I also want to mention, this is kind of silly, but I have "theme songs" for my stories, things that really inspire me to write. Hero had Spin by Lifehouse and Thief by Third Day. This one has two more songs by the same bands haha, Breathing by Lifehouse and Show Me Your Glory by Third Day. As if you needed to know that, lol, but I thought I'd mention it. Anyway, typed long enough, here's the chapter, enjoy.

Chapter 2 – Mythical Danger

The sun had just passed its peak and was starting its long decent down the other side of the sky until it finally set behind the hills. It was a clear day, there were hardly any clouds. Birds sang in the trees, and the forest was very green. Finally spring after a long cold winter. Hadrian tossed his head, happy to be outside, as was Arthur. Besides them, Conquest trotted along, his head held high. Lancelot patted the dark horse's neck, "Are you ready to go faster, my friend?" The horse knickered in response and Lancelot smirked at Arthur in a challenge as he nudge his horse forward through the forest.

"Come on Hadrian," Arthur grinned, "We can't let those two show us up like that can we!" Hadrian's powerful neck arched and he launched off of the ground into a gallop, slowly gaining on Lancelot and Conquest. The knight led them over a fallen tree trunk, both horses jumped over it easily.

The horses understood their riders just as Arthur and Lancelot understood their animals. A simple touch or small noise with the tongue was signal enough, and the horse knew what they meant. Racing through the forest, they became one with the horses. For Arthur it was a feeling he loved. Hadrian loved it too, it was what he was born to do; born to run. Everything else seemed to wash away, all that was there was Arthur and Hadrian, Lancelot and Conquest. Arthur never wanted it to end.

When it did, the world rushed back in; in more ways than one. They slowed down, letting the horses walk, it wouldn't take them long to catch their breath. Lancelot sighed and was about to say something when he caught movement out of the corner of his eye. His hands tensed, one of them leaving the reins in case he needed to grab one of his swords. Without saying anything, Arthur noticed the motion, his grey eyes quickly scanning around them. Hadrian snorted beneath him, he could feel the horse's heart beating through the saddle.

There was nothing there. Arthur and Lancelot glanced at each other when a shadow moved in front of them. Conquest squealed in surprise and both men went for their weapons. It moved again, to Arthur's right. Suddenly, an arrow shot out from the trees, no archer ever seen. Lancelot saw it first. "Arthur!" he shouted in warning, pushing his captain forward to avoid the arrow, but he himself was not fast enough and the projectile embedded itself in the younger knight's shoulder.

Grabbing Lancelot with one hand, his sword in the other, Arthur kicked Hadrian. More arrows came flying their way and the horse knew better than to stay there, Conquest running right beside him. The run was no longer for pleasure as it had been earlier, but now for life. Hadrian pushed himself harder, he had the power to do so, as did Conquest. The shadow followed them, Arthur could feel it behind him.

Neither horse slowed down as they entered the fort, causing people to jump out of their way. As soon as they did stop, Lancelot nearly fell but Arthur caught him first. Dagonet was the first their to meet them. "What happened?" he asked urgently, helping Lancelot down.

"We were attacked, out in the forest," Arthur jumped off of Hadrian, pulling Lancelot's arm around his shoulders, "Find Tristan."

Dagonet nodded and went off quickly as Arthur lead his wounded friend to his room. In the distance, the sun was setting.

* * *

"Here, lay down, gently."

"Ow, gods Arthur, stop touching it!"

A worried smile crossed Arthur face, "It'll have to come out anyway."

"Yes, until then…don't touch it…" Lancelot closed his eyes. His face was already pale, his dark eyes looking even darker in contrast.

The door opened, Arthur looked up. Tristan and Dagonet entered, Galahad looking in from the doorway, concerned. Sitting down on the bed, opposite Arthur, on Lancelot's other side, Tristan asked no questions. His skilled eyes looked at the wound. After a moment, Tristan nodded, "Yeah, we better take it out now, if the head breaks off, it'll be easier when it's fresh."

Even Dagonet cringed at the thought of the arrow head breaking off, it wasn't pleasant to try to remove it. One of Arthur's large hands brushed Lancelot's face. "Are you ready?" he asked the knight, who nodded mutely, biting his lip.

It took all of them to hold him down as Tristan removed the arrow. Blood welled up in the open hole and Lancelot gasped for breath, sweat forming on his face. Dagonet quickly held a wad of bandages over it, trying to stop the bleeding. But Arthur sat there, on the bed next to his friend, one hand holding Lancelot's and his other laid gently on the knight's forehead.

Tristan held the arrow up to the candle that lit the dark room. He ran his finger down the wooden shaft and then carefully touched the point. His brow creased, Tristan looked at his fingers in the light and then brought one up to his mouth, tasting. With a sour expression, he spat it out and then sighed. "Poison," he announced, turning back to the others.

Arthur's heart dropped and he closed his eyes, as if trying to reverse it, that it never happened. "Wonderful…" Lancelot muttered, drawing his attention back. The knight shivered, "I just can't go anywhere with you without something happening, can I."

Smiling as much has he could muster, Arthur nodded, "It'll be all right, I promise."

Dagonet stopped bandaging Lancelot's shoulder and both he and Tristan looked up at their captain, then quickly went back to what they were doing.

* * *

Arthur never left his friend's side, not for the whole next day. It was late that night that Lancelot's condition worsened. Fever had set in, the young knight tossed and turned in his sleep, calling out or trying to fight imagines in his mind. Neither Arthur nor Dagonet slept that night. In the morning, when Lancelot had calmed again, Dagonet left to go get some much needed sleep, but Arthur didn't.

The large knight rubbed his shaved head, walking down the hallway back to his quarters. "Dagonet!" a voice came from behind. He turned around to see Galahad trotting over to him, his face clearly worried. "How is uh..how is Lancelot?" he asked, a bit hesitant.

Dag sighed, shaking his head, "Not well. Tristan and the healer are working with all the herbs they can find, so far nothing helps."

"But surely…" Galahad trailed off.

"We won't give up hope, Galahad," Dag reassured him and patted his shoulder, heading back down the hallway.

Galahad looked down at the floor and ran one hand through his loose curls. Walking back, he stopped again at the doorway of Lancelot's room and looked inside. The blankets were drawn up to Lancelot's chin, but the man still shivered slightly. He looked pale, dark circles were forming under his eyes. A single bead of sweat dripped down the side of his face.

In a chair next to the bed was Arthur, slouched rather unceremoniously, with his head resting against the wooden back of the chair; asleep. One of his hands gripped Lancelot's, the other hung loosely over the side of the chair.

His worried look increasing, Galahad left the doorway. He prayed to any god he could think of to spare his brother in arms, not just for himself and the others, but just as much for Arthur.

* * *

_Laughter filled the air. "You cannot win, Arthur Castus, he will die in your very arms."_

"_No!" Arthur shouted back at the taunting darkness, "I won't let him!"_

"_Do you take his place?"_

_Taking a deep breath, his mind was clear, "I do."_

"_Good," it laughed. The dragon appeared, Lancelot held captive in one claw, unconscious. It grinned fiercely at him, showing a set of ragged and pointy teeth. "Then save him, Castus. Fight me and save him."_

_Arthur found that his legs would not move, nor would his arms. He was powerless. The image of the dragon before him faded into nothing._

* * *

Arthur awoke suddenly from his dream. His grey eyes drifted to the sleeping face of Lancelot. The dream had changed. The arrow…it was connected. He knew now what he needed to do. 


	3. Mythical Journey

Hi, sorry this took so long. I had a hard time getting where I needed to be in this chapter, so that's why I didn't post when I said I would. Um, I hope this turned out ok, it's kind of late, and it's not as believable as I would have liked haha, but oh well. If it doesn't make sense…well…maybe it wasn't supposed to. I'm not sure when I'll have the next part up, but soon probably. Oh, and thank you so much for the reviews! I love hearing what you guys think is coming next and all of the encouragement is great, I really appreciate it. So here's the next chapter, enjoy.

Chapter 3 – Mythical Journey

It was barely past the middle of the night; the moon had never risen in the window of the wounded man's room. Arthur stared out at the stars, listening to Lancelot's laboured breathing. Everyday since, the path of the poison weakened him. His hand became colder in Arthur's grasp. The Roman sighed, his best friend, the man whom he loved as a brother, was fading before his very eyes and there was nothing he could do. The face of the dragon came to him. The dream had occurred too much to be a simple coincidence. There had to be something else. Arthur recalled stories his mother used to tell him about the dragons of Britain. Perhaps it-…they…existed.

Arthur stood up. He reached forward, stroking the back of his fingers across the knight's cheek. "Lancelot, I…" tears welled up in the Roman's gentle grey eyes. He swallowed down the lump in his throat. "I promised you it would be all right. It will be." He paused, bowing his head and gripping Lancelot's hand. "I will come back, I will be here. Lancelot, I don't want to leave you now.." Arthur looked up again and knelt down, leaning in close to Lancelot's pale face. Dropping his voice to a whisper, he felt the tears well up again – he might not come back, but even worse…he could be too late. "Just…hold on for me."

Arthur felt the tears finally spill over, running down his cheeks. He gently kissed Lancelot' forehead, the fever still burning in the young knight's veins. Brushing a stray curl from his face, Arthur wished that moment would never end, that Lancelot would at any moment wake up and everything really would be all right. But that's not the way it turned out and Artorius Castus was leaving to chase a dream that may or may not be real. Leaving when his friend needed him the most. Arthur hesitated at the doorway, looking back upon his friend one last time.

His boots made little noise as he walked down the nearly silent hallway. No one would know, they didn't need to. There would be no new patrols or anything of the like for some time anyway. Arthur gathered what he needed in the dark, only one candle burning in his room. His armour was ready, his sword was polished and sharpened. Taking a deep breath, he left his room and headed to the stables, quickly getting Hadrian ready, and leaving before the sun rose and anyone noticed he was gone.

* * *

Arthur didn't truly even know where he was going, and it would seem foolish to anyone else. But the dream…it couldn't be explained to anyone who hadn't seen it. It had changed again the night before, the dragon willed Arthur to meet him, to fight in Lancelot's place. He was determined to now.

There had still been no cure found for the poison that attacked Lancelot's body. Arthur wasn't even sure what attacked them. Daytime became like a dream, just how dreams at times go unexplained, only that one knows there is danger, no other details.

The sun didn't seem as warm that day and the woods appeared to be more solemn. Their pace was slow, Arthur knew it was best not to tire Hadrian too much, since he didn't know how long their journey would be. The forest was quiet, nothing moved. It seemed as if it held its breath, waiting for something. Midday had barely passed when they found the first signs of life other than the trees and plants.

Hadrian snorted, his strong body tensing; he could hear something in the brush. Patting his neck, Arthur slowed the horse, "Easy, lad." The last thing he wanted was for the horse to bolt and inadvertently knock him off on a low branch. "What do you hear?" the Roman whispered, leaning close to Hadrian's neck. Knickering, the horse shook his head in response.

There was movement to the left, a shadow darted between the trees. Arthur reached for his sword, his knees tightening on Hadrian's sides. A twig snapped behind him. Whirling around, Arthur saw nothing, only trees. His grey eyes scanned the forest. The shadow moved again out of the corner of his eye. He was about to spur Hadrian forward when an arrow zipped by his head.

"Go Hadrian!" Arthur shouted, kicking the horse, who immediately responded, glad to get away. But he could feel it behind him; he didn't dare turn. Arrows flew by, missing him by only the smallest amount, until finally one struck his left arm in the weak part of his armour. Arthur didn't stop, it barely phased him, and he kept pushing Hadrian harder to get away from the shadows pursuing him.

* * *

Night had fallen. They had to stop, Hadrian was covered in sweat, he needed to rest. Glancing down at the arrow in his arm, Arthur knew that if not only for the horse, but for himself should they stop.

He could do some of the untacking one-handed, but it took some effort to get Hadrian's saddle off. The horse was pleased to be free of the weight, however small it was. There was a stream near by and Hadrian contented himself with sticking his nose in and letting the cool water run over it before splashing the water playfully at nothing in particular. When he looked back again, Arthur was sitting against a tree, going through the saddlebags. Hadrian plodded over, stopping with his nose over the Roman's head, dripping on him.

Arthur didn't look up at him. "Thank you, Hadrian," he said softly, pulling a roll of bandages out of the saddlebag and laying them on his lap. The horse's large eyes watched as his master looked at the arrow. It had passed through above his elbow, but no where near the bone. Taking a deep breath, Arthur knew that probably the best way to get it out is to push it through. Gripping the base of the wooden shaft with his right hand, he used his left to break off the rest of it. Pain shot through him when it broke, he nearly thought he was going to pass out when his vision swarmed.

Hadrian knickered softly, nuzzling Arthur's other shoulder with concern. A simple nod was all the horse got for a response, as Arthur got ready to push it through. He tried to make it as quick as possible, but that wasn't necessarily easy. It was never a fast process, but finally the arrow came out. With his hand trembling, Arthur pressed a wad of bandages over the two holes it had created and leaned his head against the tree, closing his eyes. He sighed shakily, "I'm beginning to think someone doesn't want me to have this arm anymore."

The bleeding subsided a little and his strength returned as much as it could; Arthur wrapped the wound as tightly as he could bare and returned to his resting position. Another sharp pain in his arm made him flinch. It was tingling as if many needles were poking at his arm. The phantom needles moved down to his hand. Arthur opened his eyes with sudden realization. Poison.

* * *

Sleep came uneasy that night, and with the new turn of events, Arthur knew that his strength would not hold out, he had seen the effects this poison already had, he couldn't waste time here tonight. Their stay was only for Hadrian's benefit and as soon as the horse was ready, they left. His body grew tired, his arm heavy. The night, which in reality was quite cool, became warm. But he couldn't fail, he couldn't let his take hold.

Arthur felt his eyelids growing heavier, it took great energy to stay awake on the horse near morning. His arm lung loosely at his side and his other was positioned as a support on the front of the saddle, gripping Hadrian's reins. It acted fast; too fast. He had to keep going…for Lancelot. But he was tired-..so tired.

_There was laughter, unfamiliar in this place. "Lancelot!" Arthur cried to the young knight running deep into the woods._

_Lancelot turned around, "What? Aren't you coming?"_

"_Where are you going?"_

"_You'll see! Just come on!"_

"_But…how did you get here?"_

"_I've been here the whole time. Is there something wrong?" Arthur hesitated, Lancelot hadn't been there. He was confused. The knight laughed, "Just come on!" _

_Arthur followed. Hadrian had suddenly disappeared, wasn't he riding just now? Maybe not. Lancelot wove his way through the forest, jumping over fallen logs and tree roots. Every now and then, Arthur would think that Lancelot had gone again and then he would come back and beckon him forward once again. "Where are we going Lancelot?" the Roman asked, panting from running through the forest._

"_I told you, you'll see!" his friend replied with a grin, "Oh, don't trip on the tree root…"_

Arthur hit the ground with a thud, his foot caught on a tree root. His chest burned, his breath came in short gasps. "Lancelot?" he question to the forest. The only reply was that of Hadrian nudging his good shoulder. Lancelot was gone.

Pushing himself up on one arm, Arthur shook his head trying to clear it. The large nose of his horse appeared under his arm and helped him to stand. He was at a clearing now, the forest tapered off. Arthur didn't recall coming here, nor did he remember dismounting…but chasing Lancelot through the woods?

Stumbling forward, blood dripped down his arm and off of his fingers from the bandages where it had already soaked through. But he didn't notice that. Hadrian let out a nervous snort as a pulsing sound came from above. Arthur looked up to see a red shape coming closer out of the sky…


	4. Mythical Challenge

Hi again, sorry about the cliffhanger last time, I hope it isn't too bad this time around. But then again…I'm the author, I know what happens next. Heh, heh.. Anyway. This chapter didn't quite turn out as I expected, but it's ok. Once I have something written down, it normally doesn't get changed. I'm not very happy with the ending, but it works. The next chapter will make up for it, I promise :-D. I have a drawing for this chapter actually of the dragon, but unfortunately doesn't let me give you urls in this, so I'll post a link in my bio if anyone wants to see what he looks like. Ok, enjoy.

Chapter 4 – Mythical Challenge

It circled above before dropping down into the clearing and landing before him. A creature of unimaginable size. One claw was twice the size of Arthur's hand. It was covered in red scales, like that of a fish, only much harder, providing armour perhaps. Two great leathery wings shot up from its back and curled about it. The dragon's tail flipped back and forth, a arrow-head shaped end looking just as dangerous as his claws. Two yellow eyes glared down at Arthur from a long face with a forked tongue tasting the air. The body of the dragon looked much like a horse, save for the much larger back legs and the red scales, and places of various sizes lining his back; smaller at the head and larger as they reached his back only to grow smaller again. He raised a three fingered hand to stand on three legs and the dragon's mouth opened in a sinister grin, revealing a set of deadly sharp teeth. "Arthur Castus," the dragon hissed in a deep, growling voice.

Arthur nearly stumbled backwards, but managed to stand up straighter. His arm throbbed and he could feel a drop of blood fall off his fingers where it had run down his arm. "You know me," Arthur said finally, looking up bravely at the dragon, despite the pit of fear deep inside.

"Of course I do, just as you know me," the dragon replied.

"Then the dream was your making!"

He nodded, flicking his tongue out again, "It was. Long I have waited to face you, Castus."

_Then you also saw to it that Lancelot was poisoned, didn't you_, Arthur felt anger boil up inside. "What do you want, dragon."

"I am called Cadogan," he replied, "And it is said you are a great warrior, I come to see. Many 'great' warriors have faced me and died at my hands. The one who lives will be great indeed."

Arthur's eyes narrowed, "Why must you weaken me to fight you then."

"If you are truly great, then you will live," Cadogan laughed menacingly.

"And what of Lancelot?"

"How else would you have come to face me? But it is too bad that you may die here and he as well…Defeat me and save his life."

Taking a deep breath, Arthur calmed his mind and did his best to clear it. He had no choice now but to face the dragon. However, Arthur barely stood up to Cadogan's knee, it seemed an impossible task.

"_That's not fair! You're bigger!"_

"_Of course it's fair."_

"_It's not fair and you know it…but I'll still beat you to the stables!"_

Bigger…the dragon might be bigger, but Arthur was still faster, he could run under him and around him, but he would have to be cautious not to tire himself out too quickly. Perhaps victory was not so far away.

Arthur nodded slowly, "I accept your challenge."

* * *

Cadogan stood up on his powerful back legs, bringing his front claws up, ready for battle. Drawing his sword, Arthur took a battle stance, also taking note of what could be used around him. Rocks, trees, plants..there had to be something of use eventually. His mind worked quickly. Cadogan let out a shrill, inhuman cry and lunged down with both claws toward Arthur. The Roman ducked out of the way, slashing at the dragon's hands. As his sword struck the red scaled hand, pain shot up from Arthur's arm, reaching all the way up his shoulder and down his back. He gritted his teeth and Cadogan growled, withdrawing the cut hand for a moment before attacking again, with more viciousness.

The technique of dodging the dragon's attacks worked and occasionally, Arthur managed to strike Cadogan's claw, but it didn't do much damage. No, where the damage would be done is on the dragon's chest, which Arthur had no hope of reaching.

A momentary pause gave Cadogan an opening and with one swipe, he threw Arthur across the clearing onto the ground. The Roman grunted, landing on his back in the dirt. Cadogan's foot appeared about him. Arthur's grey eyes went wide, but he rolled out of the way before the dragon smashed his foot down. Climbing to his feet, breathing hard, Arthur knew he couldn't keep this up for much longer. His vision wavered, the poison took hold when he was tired. Arthur stumbled; Cadogan grinned knowing that his opponent was weakening.

Cadogan swung at him with one hand, knowing it would be dodged, but as Arthur turned sideways to avoid the attack, the dragon brought his other hand, raking across Arthur's back, cutting through his armour into his flesh. Arthur cried out in pain, dropping to his hands and knees, but Excalibur still remained with him.

"I had expected more from you, Arthur Castus," Cadogan taunted, walking on his back legs around behind him, "It is a pity, though I did enjoy the fight."

Arthur closed his eyes, he couldn't get up. Sweat plastered his hair to his forehead and dripped down his face, soaking his tunic under his armour. This was it.

"Oh great Father," Arthur whispered, feeling the ground tremble with every step that Cadogan took, knowing that when it stopped, everything would be over, "I ask only that you would spare my knight's life…for his is more important than mine now. Your servant asks only to do Your will. If it is Your will that I die here and now, so be it. But spare his life, Lord, for he has more to live for than I do…" He trailed off, Cadogan stopped. "Father, if I had the strength to survive now…Lord, grant Your will and give me the strength to meet my end if this be it…"

Suddenly, Arthur felt something under his hand. A rock. He opened his eyes, Cadogan's laughter not reaching his ears. He felt energy surge in his body and grasped the rock with his hand. The hairs on the back of his neck stood up, danger was near. Arthur quickly rolled aside as Cadogan's claw embedded in the dirt where he had just been. He scrambled to his feet and threw the rock with all of his strength. It struck its mark, one of Cadogan's eyes. The dragon screeched and recoiled back, reaching one hand up at his face. But as he stumbled backwards, the great dragon fell, shaking the forest surrounding them. Arthur ran over, using the moment's opening to climb up on the dragon's chest.

"Then the fight is not over," he said, raising Excalibur above his head, "And it is not your fight to win." The sword plunged into Cadogan's chest, deep up to the hilt. The dragon let out another cry, squirming around in pain. When Arthur pulled his sword out again, he fell back down onto the ground, his strength once again gone from his body.

"Lord..I give you thanks…" Arthur whispered, closing his eyes again.


	5. Mythical Name

Well, this chapter really is too short, I apologize, but the first reason being that it was hurried because I didn't want to loose my idea, and the second that I didn't want to end it any later as there will be one more chapter and I needed to keep my starting point for that one haha. Some things happen in here that had come to me awhile ago while floating around various websites and such and I really wanted to incorporate it into a story, but couldn't quite get everything hammer out, until the idea of Cadogan came up. So, here it finally is, and I hope you all like it, even if it is a little-..unusual in the way it's presented I guess. Enjoy.

Chapter 5 – Mythical Name

"_So, Arthur Castus, you have defeated me."_

_They once again stood in the darkness, only Arthur and Cadogan, nothing else. All the weight, the pain, was gone. "Am I..dead?" Arthur asked, more to himself than the dragon, looking down at his arm._

_Cadogan shook his head, "No, no you are not. You have won. You truly are the great warrior of legends." The dragon bowed his head in respect, "I admit defeat."_

"_It was not my doing…I could not have won of my own power, it was God who gave me strength. Even when I-..I thought it was the end."_

"_Then your God must have more plans for you," Cadogan replied, "And he has blessed you this day." There was a pause, the dragon sighed. "Others shall know of your victory, Arthur Castus."_

_Arthur watched silently as the dragon came closer. He held something in his claw that appeared to be so small that it seemed as though Cadogan could not hold it in his large hand, but he did. Slowly, he reached forward and placed it over Arthur's head. The Roman took hold of the small coin like object on the strand of leather around his neck. It was silver and engraved on one side was the image of a dragon._

"_In honour of it," Cadogan continued, "I name you Artorius Castus Pendragon. You shall be remembered as man and myth."_

_Bowing his head in humble thanks, Arthur then looked up at Cadogan. "And what of my knight?" he asked, "You will spare his life since I have won?"_

"_No, Pendragon, you will spare him. Your love will save him," the dragon replied, starting to fade, "I will say no more."_

"_Wait!" Arthur cried, trying to run after him, but Cadogan disappeared and he was alone._

* * *

Hadrian knickered softly from the edge of the clearing. The dragon had stopped moving, he was dead. But Arthur still laid next to him, his face pale, his eyes closed. Slowly Hadrian plodded over, his nose near the ground. He nudged Arthur's hand, hoping to get a response. There was none. The horse gently nudged his face instead. Nothing.

But somehow he knew that his master wasn't dead. Hadrian had always shown a spark of intelligence in his eyes, perhaps the reason why Arthur chose him to begin with. He stood by his master's side, waiting for him to wake up so that they could go home. This place made him nervous, with good reason being that there was a dead dragon there.

Arthur's breathing was shallow, his chest hurt. He tried to open his eyes, but couldn't. And he was cold, despite having just fought a tiring battle with Cadogan. It was the poison…he wouldn't make it back, he couldn't save Lancelot.

Above him was one of Cadogan's arms, various cuts on his hand from when Arthur had been able to reach him. Black blood slowly oozed out, running down the long claw to the tip where it dripped off. A large droplet of the thick liquid landed on Arthur's arm. It burned through the bandage over his wound and sizzled as it met the flesh.

Arthur was suddenly in agony; he squeezed his eyes shut, grabbing his arm and screaming in pain, which echoed through the woods. But when it was over, he slowly opened his eyes, lifting his left hand off of his arm and blinked, surprised not to see any of his blood, or Cadogan's for that matter. Another thought stuck him; when just a moment ago he didn't have the strength to open his eyes, yet now he was sitting up. Arthur looked at his arm. A scar was all that was left.

Jumping to his feet, Arthur found Hadrian near by and quickly pulled out a water skin from his saddlebag, he wouldn't need it anymore. After dumping the water out, the Roman climbed the dead dragon, holding the skin under one of Cadogan's claws and letting his blood drip down inside. It took sometime, but when it was nearly half full, he climbed down again.

Hadrian snorted. "Yes, we're going home," Arthur said softly, his voice a bit hoarse. Swinging up onto Hadrian's back, his sword at his side and the skin with dragon's blood slung over his shoulder, Arthur patted the horse on his neck, "Now, Hadrian, as fast as your legs can take you." Setting his ears back, Hadrian whinnied and took off through the forest, leaving behind the body of the dead dragon.

* * *

The forest came and went by in a blur, all detail was smudged by Hadrian's speed. He felt the great urgency to get home, even if he didn't know the exact reason. Arthur's mind was occupied the long ride back. He prayed he wasn't too late, Lancelot didn't deserve this. He knew he couldn't ask Hadrian for more, the horse would collapse before they made it to the fort. Time seemed against them.

They flew by the place where the shadows had come at them. There was nothing there, no trace that there had ever been any danger. It was all like a dream, things were muddled. In his mind Arthur knew he would never find out what had attacked them there, but in his heart, he already knew. Nightmare was the proper term for it. For this is what nightmares are made of.

On the horizon, the fort grew before them as the forest disappeared in their wake. It grew as they came closer until Hadrian ran through the gate and then slowed down as Arthur navigated the crowds, shouting to let him pass.


	6. Mythical Victory

Ok, here it is, the final chapter. I should have written it when I had the idea…whoa logic…but no, apparently I had to wait for some unexplained reason in my absent-of-brain head, so it's not exactly as it would have been. And the ending is kind of crummy, but it's there and not likely to change LOL. But I am satisfied with it, it turned out nicely. I hope all of you liked it, I really enjoy reading your reviews, many of you have been quite helpful. Thank you. So, enough's enough, I'll shut up and let you read. See you hopefully in my next story, King. But for now, enjoy.

Chapter 6 – Mythical Victory

Arthur left Hadrian in the courtyard, practically running down the hallway where each of the knights' quarters were. The others save Tristan and Dagonet followed him; they had been outside when he rode up. No explanation was provided, Arthur's mind was only set on getting to his friend.

He fumbled in haste to open the door. Tristan and Dagonet were already there. The scout stood up, his dark eyes hidden beneath his shaggy hair. Looking from Tristan, to Lancelot on the bed, Arthur started to say something, but when Tristan shook his head he stopped.

Kneeling beside the bed, Arthur took off the water skin with Cadogan's blood and set it down beside him, taking up Lancelot's hand instead. "Lancelot…" he whispered, tears filling his gentle grey eyes. There was no response, not even a breath. Lancelot's face was white like powder, his lips had turned a shade of blue. His chest did not rise and fall as it should have. "No…" He was too late, Arthur had failed.

He reached for the water skin, choking on his tears, and pulled back the covers of the bed and the bandage on the knight's shoulder. Arthur's movements were quick – panicked. The black blood poured out slowly onto the grotesque wound. It sizzled upon impact, sealing the flesh and dissolving until all that was left was a scar. But Lancelot didn't move, not even the slightest flinch at the burning of the dragon's blood. Arthur gripped his hand, bringing it up to his cheek. It wasn't as warm as it should be.

Tristan looked up, his eyes roving over the scar, but even if they had a way to defeat the poison it was too late. Behind him, many of the knights bowed their heads in silence. Gawain comfortingly rubbed Galahad's shoulder as the youngest knight stared at the scene before him, two tears running down his cheeks. None of them had the heart to say anything to their captain, except Dagonet. Slowly, he stepped forward, placing his hands on Arthur's shoulders. "Arthur," Dag said softly, "There's nothing more-…"

Arthur shook his head, his voice breaking, "No! His life should have been spared!"

"He's not coming back…"

Lowering his head to rest on Lancelot's arm, Arthur's shoulders shuddered. Dag turned, looking back at the others reluctantly. Slowly, one by one, they filed out, leaving the room empty again, until Dag stood in the doorway, watching his captain grieve. The large knight closed his eyes, lowering his head, and walked down the hallway.

Arthur gripped Lancelot's hand, still letting the tears overflow, kneeling beside his bed. After a moment, he lifted his head up. _No, Pendragon, you will spare him. Your love will save him._

"How can I save him now!?" he shouted up towards the ceiling, "How can my love save him when it's too late! What difference does it make! I failed-…" He broke off, biting back another sob. What Arthur wouldn't give just to let Lancelot live, to watch him open his brown eyes, to hear him breath.

Bowing his head to rest on Lancelot's hand, Arthur closed his eyes, trying to hold back his emotions. His voice was soft, broken, just the way he felt inside, and even the Latin that came off of his tongue didn't sound as beautiful as it had. _"Lord God…" _Arthur whispered into the bed, _"Lancelot is my knight, it is my duty to protect him…my duty to-..as a friend…oh God, please, I beg of you, just so that he might live. You spared me in battle, Lord, and I would reverse that so that he might live. You put him in my life, Lord, it was Your will…and You know what he means to me…Spare my knight-..my brother…"_ His voice trailed off again, dissolving into tears.

* * *

Night came upon them, no one went near that room. The other knights had their own ways of grieving, Lancelot was a terrible loss to bare. Arthur had fallen asleep, exhaustion took his tired body. His head still rested next to his knight's arm; one hand gripped Lancelot's and his other rested on the pillow with his fingers entwined in the dark curls.

A light from the window on the other side of the bed entered in, a single star amid the cloudy night. It shined down upon them softly, not enough to change the lighting of the room. But in the star and candlelight Lancelot suddenly gasped, his eyes springing wide open. He panted for air as if he had run a long race, but his movement failed to wake the sleeping Roman next to him. Lancelot never knew what had happened…but he remembered, the poison. With his free hand he touched the scar on his shoulder, it had healed already? Had he been asleep that long?

Lancelot's dark eyes turned to Arthur…he had left, Lancelot remembered he left. There were tears that had not dried yet on his friend's face. He reached over, softly brushing Arthur's damp cheek. The Roman stirred at the touch, slowly opening his eyes. His breath caught in his throat upon seeing Lancelot's eyes looking up at him; he couldn't speak for a moment. "L-Lancelot!" he finally whispered.

"You came back," Lancelot smiled slowly, but then paused; Arthur still staring at him in shock. A wide, tearful smile broke onto the Roman's face and he pulled Lancelot up into his embrace.

"Lancelot…I thought-..I thought you were…" he said softly, running his hand through the dark curly hair.

The knight shook his head, "No, I'm right here…" The warmth of Arthur's embrace took away the chill of the poison; Lancelot closed his eyes. "Arthur…" he started after sometime, "I had a dream. There was a dragon…" Arthur leaned back, his hand still on the back his friend's neck. "You were hurt, but you fought it…and you won," Lancelot stopped suddenly, reaching one hand to touch the silver pendant with the dragon on it. "Pendragon…" he whispered, and then looked up, "It was real?"

Arthur nodded slowly, "It was real."

"Artorius Castus Pendragon," Lancelot grinned, and then laughed, pulling Arthur close again, "I'm glad you're back."

"So am I," Arthur replied, a wide smile breaking through as he ruffled Lancelot's hair. _You shall be remembered as man and myth._

_finis_


End file.
